


The Rise & Fall of the White Fang

by Carterson_the_Mortal



Series: The Sexy and Stupid Chronicles of Beacon University [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carterson_the_Mortal/pseuds/Carterson_the_Mortal
Summary: “I used to be part of a band,” Blake says, nervousness creeping into her voice. “The White Fang.”Realization dawns on Weiss’ face. “That’s right, I remember hearing some of your songs on the radio. What happened?”When she was just a preteen, Blake Belladonna and her friends formed the kid rock band called the White Fang. Years ago, the band broke up.This is their story.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna & Adam Taurus, Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus (past), Ilia Amitola & Blake Belladonna, Ilia Amitola & Sun Wukong, Ilia Amitola/Blake Belladonna (one sided), Sun Wukong & Adam Taurus, Sun Wukong & Blake Belladonna
Series: The Sexy and Stupid Chronicles of Beacon University [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800751
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	The Rise & Fall of the White Fang

**Author's Note:**

> *waves* heheh. Hello, there.
> 
> In chapter 10 of Real Housemates, I had a scene where Yang and Ruby crossed paths with Blake, Adam, Ilia, and Sun, who formed the band known as the White Fang. I knew I would do a series of flashbacks pertaining to them, but well, it ended up being way bigger than I imagined.
> 
> To that end, I decided to make this into a three-part miniseries. The next two chapters are more than likely gonna be as long as this, because I wanted to flesh out the four characters as best I can. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Do lemme know what you think about this as honestly as you wish. I had fun writing it, and I hope you stick around.

**The recent past. Sophomore year.**

It isn't easy for Sun Wukong to genuinely surprise Blake Belladonna. She’d known him for something like 8 or 9 years, and she’d gotten used to his antics and tricks. 

So when he tells her that he needs her help picking out clothes for a date, he’s more than a little proud that her normally passive face changes to shock when she arrives at his apartment. Because he swings the door open wide enough for her to see his special guest: Ilia Amitola. 

“Hey, Blake,” Ilia smiles softly and waves. Blake, got her part, crosses the threshold and gives her friend a tight hug. “Yep, you still give strong hugs.”

“I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were in Europe?” Blake breaks apart to properly assess her. They haven’t seen each other in a couple of years, but she looks much healthier than the last time they talked. Her brown hair, normally so long it reaches down her back, has been chopped to only reach past her ears, and her tan skin is glowing. 

”I was,” Ilia confirms. “I think going there really helped me after...everything. But I think that I’ll come back soon.” Sun comes up next to her, glasses of water in both hands, which he delivers to both women. “Looks like you’re both doing well for yourselves, too.”

Sun grins and jabs a thumb at Blake. “Well, sure she’s busy being a good student and all that jazz, but I,” he flexes, “have been breaking hearts and taking names all across campus.”

“He’s not kidding,” Blake says with a sigh. 

Ilia laughs. “Sounds just like Sun.” The three chat amicably between themselves, catching up—Ilia apparently has a girlfriend now, according to Sun, and likewise he loves talking up Blake’s articles for the school paper. But there’s a topic none of them are broaching yet, a wound they know they have to acknowledge now or it’ll just ruin this reunion later. 

So naturally, Sun does it. “Why are you here, ‘Tola?”

Ilia takes a sip of her water before replying. She looks at them both. “When I left the states, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. I said some things to you both that were pretty bad.”

Blake cuts her off. “They weren’t—“

Ilia raises a hand to silence her. “They were. And I wanted to come here to see you both, to know for sure that I was wrong.”

There’s a million things Blake wants to say to Ilia. She wants to place the blame all on her own shoulders. She wants to cry and beg for forgiveness. 

Instead, she remembers. 

* * *

**Year Zero.**

**Kuo Kuana. Years ago.**

Blake hums softly to herself, writing down the words that come to mind. “The lightning doesn’t take advice from anyone🎶...” She hums out the melody. “The willow never needs to learn to stand🎶.” She frowns and puts a question mark over ‘never.’ “As sun seeks day, we’ll find a way—“

Suddenly, she feels a body pressed against her side. “Oooooh, what’s this?” 

Frantically, Blake tries to shove her notebook into her chest before Sun can get a hold of it. With her other hand, she pushes him away. “Haven’t you heard of personal space?”

The 11-year-old boy—sorry, _12_ , since he loves reminding everyone that as of two days ago he’s no longer the youngest—grins. “Nope!” He returns to her side, though not within touching distance. “Writing music again?”

“No!” Yes. But she can’t let him know that, or he'll be super pushy and ask to see, and she can’t—

“Can I see?” The question comes not from Sun’s high-pitched voice, but one noticeably deeper, and that can only mean one thing. His next door neighbor Adam. Sure enough, when Blake turns her head, the older boy is there, hands in his pockets and an easygoing smile on his face. 

Blake feels her face go hot. “H-h-hi, Adam,” she says meekly. 

“Hey, Blake.” He comes to the table and sits across from her. One of his hands is extended out, but not all the way. “I’d like to read what you wrote, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh. O-okay.” She leans over the table and presents the notebook. As he reads through it, she gets out, “It’s nothing special, really! I just sorta thought of the lyrics while I was waiting here. It’s just word vomit.”

Satisfied, Adam presents the notebook back to her. “I like it,” he says with sincerity. “Wouldn’t mind seeing it all when it’s finished. But, maybe what you’ve got is more of a chorus than a verse, yeah?”

Sun nods, having looked over Adam’s shoulder. “He’s right, Bella! And then at the end it can transition like, da-nah-nah-NAH-nah nah!” He does an air guitar to show what he means. 

Blake and Adam look at each other before the latter replies, “Suuuuuure it can.”

At that moment, Ilia walks in, the case holding her bass guitar hilariously overshadowing her young frame. “Do I wanna know why Sun is doing air guitar again, poorly?”

Sun smugly declares, “I was just giving Blake some pointers on a new song she wrote.”

Ilia turns her attention to Blake in amazement. “You wrote another song already? That’s so cool.”

“I know, right? And we only nailed down the other one she did last week!”

Blake rubs the back of her head. “Well, it’s not a new song, more like—“

Adam walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s give her some time to finish it, guys,” he says, putting on his Older-and-I’m-in-Charge voice. “In the meantime, let’s get our stuff ready so Mr. Tukson doesn’t have to spend 10 minutes trying to get us all in line.”

“Yes, Adam,” Sun and Ilia say at the same time. They both walk past him into the music room, leaving Blake and Adam alone. 

“Thanks,” she says, gathering her things, including her own guitar. 

“Of course,” he smiles. “I meant it, by the way,” Adam walks to the door and holds it open for her. “I do wanna see your song when it’s done. I really liked the last one you did for us.”

Blake doesn’t say a word, but the red across her face and the way she rushes into the room says enough. 

At first, Blake wasn’t sure about getting involved with music. At the time, she was 10 going on 11, and being forced to play the recorder in fourth grade isn’t exactly ideal. (Seriously, whoever came up with Hot Cross Buns should go to jail.) But then Ilia, her best friend since pre-K, lost her parents in a car crash. Ilia’s parents had both been musically inclined, a talent they passed onto their daughter via an affinity for the bass. 

Weeks after having lost her parents and since moved in with Sienna Khan, Ilia came rushing to Blake’s house, eyes glowing with pride as she played “Black Magic Woman” on her instrument. At the time, the two were in the den of Blake’s house, next to the keyboard her father had taught her to play. You can guess what happened there. But a musical duo they were not, beyond getting to have solos at an end-of-year concert in fifth grade, it wasn’t like they were taking this seriously. It wouldn’t be anything special. 

Then on the last day of school, a kid named Sun Wukong from another class and a love of the drums taps Blake on the shoulder and asks if they wanna join his super cool rock band with his neighbor Adam. (“I don’t think a band can be two people,” Ilia had said. “Your face is two people,” he had replied petulantly. Blake had sighed.) They weren’t really a band so much as a gathering of kid musicians, heck, they never even really played at anything beyond a birthday party for Sun’s kid niece. Still, despite Sun initially getting on her and Ilia’s nerves and Adam being two grades ahead of them, hanging out with him was fun most of the time. 

Other times...

“Sun, shut up!” Ilia orders. “I can’t hear myself while you bang on the drums.”

“Well I gotta warm up, too,” he points out, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Then just use the floor or your drum pad, genius.” She rolls his eyes as realization dawns on him and he reaches for his backpack. 

Blake giggles as Adam pipes up, hands strumming his black-and-red guitar, something he likes to call ‘Wilt.’ “Sometimes I wonder why I hang out with you kids.”

“Cuz you think everyone else in this school are idiots and you’re better than them all,” Sun says, tapping his drumsticks on his pad. “And cuz I’m your best friend.”

The red-haired boy pretends to frown. “No, I’m sure that second part is all fiction.” Blake laughs, and it’s enough to make him smile at her. “How about you, all warmed up?”

Blake nods. “I practiced at home before I came here.” 

“Kissass,” Sun coughs out, and she glares at him. He has the nerve to look like he didn’t say anything, the little jerk. 

Adam scoffs. “It’s called being dedicated, Sunshine. It’s what separates the pretender musicians from the real deal.”

“I’m totally dedicated,” the blonde defends. “I’m just not like Blake because I don’t have—“ 

“Sun,” she warns. 

“...I don’t have parents who’ll be at this shindig we’re doing,” he finishes with a weak chuckle. Next to him, Ilia snorts. He’s of course referring to the upcoming Kuo Kuana Fair, the city’s yearly event meant to celebrate Menagerie. This being her second year as governor, Blake’s mother Kali has also decided it can double as a voter registration event. (When asked by Blake if it wasn’t a bit too early for that, Kali had scoffed. “Too early? Honey, it’s never too early to make sure your rights are still secure.”)

It’s a half truth, but Blake is nervous. Everyone in Kuo Kuana knows her as the daughter of both a governor and a well known civil attorney, but that’s just something she’s lived with for years. She wants to be recognized for what she can do rather than the life she was born into. 

...Impressing Adam is just a fringe benefit. 

It’s at this moment that the doors open and Mr. Tukson walks in. Tall and stocky, the man has taught music at the Owlsley School District for years, and it was him who first taught the younger trio how to read sheet music and play something that sounded...well not like kids playing garbage, basically. “Good afternoon, kids!” He greets. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tukson,” they all reply, like they don’t see him every day. 

“You kids ready for the fair?”

“Born ready,” Adam proudly declares. 

“I’ve been practicing every night,” Ilia adds. “And even in the morning before class too!” To prove her point, she strums on her bass, and Tukson claps in approval. 

Tukson turns to Blake, asking the question with his eyes. Without saying anything, she nods. 

“We got this in the bag,” Sun says. “While Blake’s hot mom is getting everyone to vote or whatever—“

“Excuse me?” Blake raises an eyebrow as Ilia chokes on her water. 

“—we’ll be dazzling the masses with our sick tunes.” From anyone else, this claim would be off putting and more than a little arrogant, but from Sun, his words are just what they need to hear. 

Tukson chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, you’re not lacking in spirit, kid, I’ll give you that. But spirit doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the talent to back it up.” He walks over to a chair and sits down, a grin on his face. “So, thrill me.”

“One thrilling, coming right up!” The blonde rushed to his drum set, and everyone else takes up their instruments. “You guys ready?”

“READY!”

When the four of them had decided to try and land this “gig,” as Sun had called it, they had settled on two songs to play, one at the middle, and one at the very end. They would both be songs that people knew—Ilia, surprisingly, was the one to throw out Mr. Brightside. Adam was next to make a suggestion, with the choice being the rock cover of “Smooth Criminal.”

(“It’s a classic,” he defended. “Everyone knows it.” “The real version, maybe,” Ilia had muttered, high fiving a snickering Sun.)

With Blake on keyboard and backup vocals, Sun doing the drums, Ilia on bass, and Adam pulling double duty as guitarist and lead singer, it’s enough to win over Tukson. By the time they’re finishing up Brightside for the third time, making sure they’re all on time and not stepping on each other’s toes, the man is clapping and whistling, and it’s somehow drawn the attention of some staff and students who had stayed after school closed down. 

“I told you we’ll be great,” Sun says after the onlookers have departed. “They loved us!”

“Slow down, monkey boy,” Ilia nudges him. “That was just a rough practice, and we’ve still got two whole days and a morning between us and the fair.” She yelps as Sun pinches her arm, and she nearly decks him if he hadn’t jumped behind Adam. 

“Guys, stop,” Blake hisses, “you’re embarrassing us!!!”

Tukson walks over until he’s in direct eye contact with them all. “I don’t think you kids have anything to worry about if you play as well you did just now. You all had a good teacher.”

Ilia quirks her head. “But, _you’re_ our teacher.”

“I know, I’m allowed to gloat.” None of them are able to resist laughing. “Seriously though,” he smiles at them all. “I think you’ll do great if you give the crowd the same energy you’ve been giving me.” His phone chirps, and he pats Adam on the shoulder. “That must be the pizza. We’ll be right back, you three take a break, and we’ll start back up again once we’ve all eaten.” 

Once their elders have departed, Sun lets out a loud whoop and jumps out of his seat. “Man, I can already see it now: us, onstage, applause and roses thrown at our feet. Cameras flashing, video being taken, autographs demanded!” He swoons.

Ilia rolls her eyes. “Are all Vacuo boys like this?” 

“Just me, ‘Tola. I’m one of a kind.” He winks at her, and she gags. Satisfied at having gotten a reaction from her, his attention instead goes to Blake. “Soooooooooooo, Blake. You and Adam, eh?” 

Having just pulled out her notebook, Blake sighs and keeps her head down. “Sun...” 

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I get it, he’s got this whole brooding, mature bad boy thing going on,” he continues. “And I guess he’s good looking, no homo.” 

Ilia looks between them both. Her face twists from confusion to something else as she absorbs Sun’s words. “You think he’s good looking?” 

“In a ‘no homo’ way!” Sun stresses. “Like, I’m not into guys, but he could make a girl happy someday.” 

Blake slaps her notebook to her face, clearly not going to get anything done during their break. “Oh my god. Please stop.”

“Why?” Ilia suddenly asks. When two pairs of eyes turn towards her, she clarifies. “Why Adam, I mean. What’s he got? Is it just cuz he’s older?” 

“It’s not that, it’s....” Blake finds herself at a loss for words, before settling on: “He’s Adam.” It’s weak, but it’s the best she’s got, even if it’s not accurate. She can’t say that he makes her feel normal or respected, that he doesn’t constantly tease her like Sun or call her “princess” like other classmates closer to her age. “He’s Adam” is somehow enough and not even close. 

The two words are enough for Ilia to look down and refocus on her phone, and eventually Sun does the same. Soon, they’re all quiet until Tukson and Adam return. The meal that follows is uneventful; Blake gets to have her tuna pizza all to herself, while Sun tries to convince Ilia and Adam that no really, Vacuo makes some of the best pizza in the country. (He’s been saying this since the day they met, which diminishes the promise somewhat.)

After running through both their songs a few more times, they call it a day, since the four of them do have school in the morning. Sun leaves with Adam when his cousin Starr arrives, and Blake hitches a ride with Ilia as Sienna pulls into the parking lot. Her house isn’t far off from Sienna’s home, and the older woman is a close friend of her parents, so it all works out. Sienna is a lovely woman who works with Blake’s mom, and despite how fierce she looks with her amber eyes, she’s actually quite warm and inviting. (Blake is fairly certain Ilia wants to call her “mom,” but hasn’t been able to bring herself to do that yet. Maybe she doesn’t think Sienna will respond well to it.)

It’s an uneventful drive; after exchanging platitudes, Blake finds herself looking outside the window. Her mom has only been in office for two years, but she’s done a lot to make all of Menagerie better than her predecessor. The previous governor had won, in her father’s words, because of a “sham” election, voter suppression being the key to his victory. And it showed with his incompetence in running a city already believed by some to be beyond saving and a waste of space. When Kali Belladonna suddenly started campaigning after being a mayor in the capital of Kuo Kuana, everyone took notice, and the following election spoke for itself. The night Kali won, Blake can remember being at her parents’ side, smiling for pictures and pretending to not be sick of the same question asked at the campaign party: “Are you going to be in politics like your mother?” 

“Blake?” Sienna calls out. 

Snapping out of her stupor, Blake looks up and sees that they’re right at the driveway of her home. She bids a goodbye to both Ilia and Sienna and makes the quick walk inside her home. Upon entering, she nearly trips and curses before grabbing the wall. She already knows who the cause of this is. “Dangit, Gambol!” She looks down and sure enough, her black cat is looking up at her, like the kid is at fault instead of the feline just sleeping at the door. Removing her shoes, Blake tiptoes around Gambol and into the dining room, where the main table is littered with folders, papers, and laptops. 

Kali notices her presence first, leaving her chair to give her a hug. “Hi, honey,” she greets. “How was practice?” Everyone often says Blake is the spitting image of her mother, and it’s hard not to agree. Kali’s skin is a little darker, and her hair much shorter than Blake’s, which goes halfway down her back. But they both have the same gold eyes, the same clever smirk, and even the same kind of glasses. (Kali had suggested it when they went to the optometrist, and Blake couldn’t resist the idea.) 

“It was good,” Blake says. “I think we’re all ready, we’re just kinda....” 

Ghira smiles. “Nervous?” Like his wife, he leaves the table to walk over to Blake, opting for a kiss on the forehead over a hug. He’s an incredibly bulky man with a wild mane of hair to match. If she weren’t his own daughter, she’s sure that she would be in awe of how imposing he looks, even in a purple button-up and dark slacks. 

“Yeah. Well, except Sun, but you know how he is.” Ghira groans, no doubt remembering the first time Sun came to their home and how it only took five minutes and at least three sentences before he told the boy, point blank: “I don’t think I like you.” It didn’t stop Sun, and if anything, only seemed to spur him further. 

“He’s not that bad, dad,” Blake points out. “He’s just very excited.” 

“He should be,” Kali pats her daughter’s head. “It’s not every day a band of kids gets to play during a fair-slash-voter registration rally. And especially not one featuring my little girl.” 

“Mom...” Her cheeks redden, even though no one is around. 

Both her parents laugh before Ghira speaks again. “You have nothing to worry about, Blake. Whatever happens, your mother and I will be proud of you and your friends.” The three share a group hug before Blake goes upstairs to her room, dropping her backpack at the foot of her bed. Plopping down onto her mattress, Blake flips over until she’s staring at the roof of her room. Eventually, sleep overtakes her, and that night, she dreams of the stage and songs to come. 

And the boy who will be by her side, strumming away on his guitar. 

* * *

The next two days see Blake on autopilot. When she wasn’t doing her work in class or reading, she was practicing for the Fair, either listening to the two songs on her phone or using her fingers to simulate the keyboard movements. What classes she shared with Ilia or Sun, she saw them subtly practicing as well, and their lunch period was spent humming and beatboxing their parts out into something comprehensible. (It works about as well as you think from three 12-year-olds.)

Come Saturday, the Fair is underway. They arrive at Menagerie Park around 10, an hour before the event starts. Everything is set up away from Kali and her staff, and they run through the two songs, quietly as possible--much to his annoyance, Sun has to air drum, and he mostly doesn’t make a sound. 

After setting up at the stage proper and eating, they all change into their performance clothes; with a simple color scheme of black and white, it wasn’t hard to unify around that. Blake and Ilia had coordinated and gone for black vests with a white shirt underneath and dark slacks. Similarly, over his crisp white shirt, Adam wore a black jacket he inherited from his father and opted for khakis. 

And Sun? He’d gone with black jeans and a faded white shirt that would’ve been fine, had he not decided at the last moment to leave it unbuttoned and show off his bare chest. 

“Absolutely not,” Ilia says once she sees what he’s done. “You better button that up right now, or those drumsticks are going down your--”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” Sun quickly buttoned himself up and rolled up the sleeves. His hair had been done nice today, slicked back instead of normally unruly. “How’d your face go from brown to red so fast?”

“ _Sun_ \--”

Getting between them, Adam fixes them both with a stare. Sheepishly, they both calm down as Tukson emerges. “Alright, huddle up.” Once they do so, he says, “Look guys, no matter what happens today, I’m proud of you for getting this far. You’ve impressed me, you’ve impressed the school. Now go out there and impress yourselves.”

“We got this,” Sun grins. “Althouuuuuuugh, I do still feel like we should’ve changed our name to Sun and the Sunbeams.” 

“Oh god,” Adam rolls his eyes, “everyone _please_ to your stations.” Once they’re all at their instruments, their teacher does one final check. 

“Amps?”

“Check!” Ilia gives a thumbs up. 

“Microphones?” 

“Check,” Adam says. There’s one in front of him and another set up for Blake.

“Keyboard?” 

Blake nods. “Ready.” 

“Drums?” 

“Ch-ch-ch-check!” Sun twirls his drumsticks. 

Tukson grins. “You’re ready. I’ll come see you when you’re done.” He flashes them a thumbs up before leaving the way he came. In no time at all, the curtain opens, and the quartet are treated to a sea of adults, some old, some old _er_ _,_ all looking at them with anticipation. Blake is certain that at one point, she hears her mom shout “WE LOVE YOU, SWEETIE!” followed by a “KNOCK ‘EM DEAD, ILLS!” from Sienna. 

“There’s so many of them...” Ilia gulps. 

“We got this,” Adam says, though it sounds more like a question. He clears his throat and repeats himself with more confidence. “We’ve got this.” 

“They can hear us...” Blake says, and all three of them realize the mics are on. Thankfully, the crowd chuckles. 

Sun grins. “HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO KUO KUANA! ARE YOU READY TO GET YOUR MINDS BLOWN!” He doesn’t wait for any response, instead addressing the band. “WHITE FANG, YOU GUYS READY?!” 

The other three kids shout in unison: **“READY!”**

He clicks his sticks four times before slamming his hi-hat and snare simultaneously, he and Adam simultaneously screaming “YOW!” in the highest voices they can muster. From there, they start playing “Smooth Criminal.” It’s a little slower than the Alien Ant Farm version, but it still maintains the tempo the song is known for. Naturally, Adam drives the pace, tapping his foot in time with the beat, and he turns to Blake and winks before beginning to sing. 

_As he came into the window_

_It was the sound of a crescendo_

_He came into her apartment_

_He left the bloodstains on the carpet_

_She was sitting on the table_

_He could see she was unable_

_So she ran into the bedroom_

_She was struck down_

_It was her doom_

All instruments suddenly cut to a halt as Adam sings. 

_Annie are you ok?_

_Are you ok?_

_Are you ok Annie?_

_Annie are you ok?_

_Are you ok?_

_Are you ok Annie?_

_Annie are you ok?_

_Are you ok?_

_Are you ok Annie?_

Blake finds herself mesmerized by his voice. She’s heard him sing alone multiple times, but it sounds amazing right now, and even the crowd agrees as they holler and whistle. At the final ‘Annie,’ they all play again, and she suddenly remembers she has to join in. 

_Annie are you ok?_

_Won't you tell us, that you're ok_

_There's a sign at the window_

_That he struck you_

_A crescendo, Annie_

_He came into your apartment_

_He left the bloodstains on the carpet_

_Then you ran into the bedroom_

_You were struck down_

_It was your doom_

There’s more whistles and cheering now from the crowd, so much so that Blake almost forgets where they are in the song. It’s only thanks to having it in her head for weeks that she remembers their place. 

_You’ve been hit by,_

_You’ve been struck by,_

_A Smooth Criminal!_

The second verse and chorus is where they accidentally pick up in speed; they’re riding off the high from the audience now and it nearly throws them off sync, were it not for Sun, who is surprisingly focused during all this. When it comes time for the guitar solo, he belts out the best impersonation of Michael Jackson’s scatting as he can. It’s nothing special, but “WHOO!” at the appropriate intervals are his strong suit and it’s so infectious that Ilia finds herself joining in.

When it comes time for the big finish, Adam and Blake give it all they’ve got vocally. Adam’s so into it that he stops playing all together, swinging his guitar behind his back to take the microphone off its stand and walk to the edge of the stage. 

_Annie, are you okay?_

_Are you okay, Annie?_

_You okay, Annie?_

_Annie, are you okay?_

_Are you okay, Annie?_

_You okay, Annie?_

_Annie, are you okay?_

_Are you okay, Annie?_

_You okay, Annie?_

He stands there as Sun, Ilia, and Blake complete the song, throwing his fist into the air as the last note hits. 

There’s silence, and the crowd erupts. Whistles ring out, the claps are thunderous, and Adam looks up at them once last time with a cocky smirk before returning to the mic stand to put it back in place and rejoin his band. 

“Readyyyyy?!” Sun repeats over the cheers. 

**“READY!”**

Sun starts “Mr. Brightside,” sticks hitting the hi-hat and setting the tempo for the song. After two measures, Adam joins in with his guitar for another four measures, then begins to sing. 

_Coming outta my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine—_

Sun, Blake and Ilia join in this time, screaming at the top of their lungs.

_Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all!_

Rolling his eyes, Adam continues singing. 

_It started out with a kiss_

_How did it end up like this?_

_It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss_

_Now I'm falling asleep_

_And she's calling a cab_

_While he's having a smoke_

_And she's taking a drag_

Blake joins in at the pre-chorus. 

_Now they're going to bed_

_And my stomach is sick_

_And it's all in my head_

_But she's touching his chest now_

_He takes off her dress now_

_Let me go_

And finally, Ilia. 

_And I just can't look, it's killing me_

_And taking control_

Sun goes to his high hat as Blake continues on her keyboard. Adam backs away from the microphone stand to let Ilia have her solo. 

_Jealousy, turning saints into the sea_

_Swimming through sick lullabies_

_Choking on your alibis_

_But it's just the price I pay_

_Destiny is calling me_

_Open up my eager eyes_

_'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside_

As she holds the last note, Sun comes back in on the drums, and they continue to play. “Brightside” is nowhere near as intensive as “Criminal,” but they still put their all into it. They don’t suddenly speed up, but as they get towards the home stretch, there’s a unity that links through Adam, Ilia, and Blake as they each sing, ‘I Never’ before joining in for the last one. 

Sun bashes on the cymbals so hard in those last moments that he’s pretty sure he heard something crack. In any case, he gets off his throne and dashes to join the others so they can bow, waving with the hand holding his drumsticks only to realize that yep, one of them is now missing the head. “Aw, nuts,” he mutters just as the curtains close.   
  


“That. Was. Amazing!” Ilia squeals. She leans her bass against an amp before running over to hug Blake. “I didn’t throw up! I thought I would puke, I thought Sun would fall off his seat--”

“Totally valid,” Sun nods as he walks over. Like Ilia, he scoops them both in a hug as wide as his arms will allow. “We kicked so much ass!” He breaks the hug and holds his arms up for high fives, which they both graciously return. “How do you think we did, Adam?” 

Next to them, Adam carefully puts his guitar back in its bag before answering. “This was but a small triumph that we should enjoy,” he says solemnly. “A satisfactory triumph, though we should still be prepared for a new challenge to come in its place.”

There’s a short silence before Sun dumbly asks, “Say what now?” 

“We did good, but now we’ll probably be asked to play at other events,” Blake translates. 

“Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Sun rolls his eyes. 

“Not my fault you aren’t cultured, kid,” Adam says. “Not like she is.”

Blake feels the tips of her ears go red. Sun snickers, and she punches him in the shoulder. He’s about to retaliate when Blake’s parents burst in, followed by Sienna and Sun’s cousin, Starr. 

Kali and Ghira both kiss the top of their daughter’s head and give her their own hug. “You were so good out there, baby!” Kali coos. 

“Thanks, mom,” Blake replies. 

Ghira nods. “You looked like such a young woman out there, Blake.” He sniffles before shoving her face into his chest as his voice goes high pitched. “I’m so proud of you!” His eyes water. 

“Ooooooookay, dad, you’re hugging pretty hard again...”

  
  


Running her hands up and down her hair, Ilia looks up at Sienna expectantly. “H-h-how’d we look out there?”

Sienna smiles and pats her adoptive daughter’s head. “You did real good, Ills.” She then softly says, “Your parents would be proud.”

Ilia beams at the praise. 

  
  


“Weeeeeeeeeell, turns out you’ve got some talent other than being annoying after all!” Starr Sanzang throws an arm around Sun and taps her knuckles against his forehead. “Who’da thunk?”

Sun laughs and raps his own knuckles against her forehead. “I always told you I was amazing, you just never listen.”

She laughs and ruffles his hair. “Sure you did, Sunshine. Now go put your stuff up, and we’ll get us some fair food.”

The 12-year-old pumps a fist in the air. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!” 

Following that, the kids spend the rest of the fair with each other and their families. Sun gorges himself on fair food, much to the disgust of Ilia. Adam’s parents didn’t show up--according to Sun, he declined to tell them because they’d just embarrass him--meaning he spends time talking to Ghira and Kali. Blake hates this, because she’s pretty sure they both know how she feels about Adam, but she can’t do anything to stop it, so she hangs with Sun and Ilia while silently praying that nothing horrible happens. 

(“It’s not like they’ve got baby photos or any videos of you as a kid on their phones, right?” Sun asks. When Blake turns red, he grins and tries to make a break for her parents, only to be tripped on his own feet.)  
  


The fair is nearly over when Tukson asks them all to gather back at the stage, asking to play one more song to close things out. 

Ilia is the first to blanch. “But we have two songs!” she argues. “What else can we play?” 

“The Pokémon theme song is pretty easy,” Sun suggests. Several glares thrown his way make it clear that won’t fly. “Or, maybe something else.” 

Adam scratches his chin in thought. His eyes go to Blake, and her cheeks flush. “Adam....?” The boy snaps his fingers in response. 

“What if we play your song?” 

Everyone else’s eyes go wide; Sun, Ilia, and Tukson’s in realization, Blake’s in horror. 

“That’s perfect!”

“I dunno,” Blake stammers, but no one pays her any attention. She’s nearly spooked by Adam putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning over to her. 

“If you’re nervous,” he says, “Just focus on me, alright?” He pulls away and winks at her before addressing everyone else. “Blake’s song, you guys in or out?” 

“In,” Ilia says. 

“Totally in,” Sun pumps his fist. 

When they all turn to Blake in anticipation, she sighs and smiles. “Yeah, sure, let’s do this.” 

Couple minutes later, they’re all back on stage. Sun’s got a replacement pair of sticks in his hand, Blake is up near Adam this time rather than towards the middle, and the crowd looks at them with even more expectation. 

Blake breathes. She looks to Adam, and smiles. 

Her fingers begin on the keyboard, a simple melody she repeats for another measure. After the second time, Adam joins in for another pair of repeats, followed by Sun and Ilia. Tapping her head to the beat, she sings. 

_They see you as small and helpless_

_They see you as just a child_

_Surprise when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild_

The beat gets faster as she continues, 

_Prepare for your greatest moments_

_Prepare for your finest hour_

_The dream that you've always dreamed is suddenly about to flower_

_We are lightning_

_Straying from the thunder_

_Miracles of ancient wonder_

When working on the song with the band, she decided that if anyone would join her on the chorus, it would be Ilia, and as Tukson had said many times during practice, it was a wise choice. 

_This will be the day we've waited for, they sing,_

_This will be the day we open up the door_

_I don't wanna hear your absolution_

_Hope you're ready for a revolution_

_Welcome to a world of new solutions_

_Welcome to a world of bloody evolution_

_In time, your heart will open minds_

_A story will be told_

_And victory is in a simple soul!_

Adam riffs on the guitar, and Ilia takes over as the lead singer just as Sun does a fill to bring everyone back in.

_Your world needs a great defender_

_Your world's in the way of harm_

_You want a romantic life_

_A fairytale that's full of charm_

_Beware that the light is fading_

_Beware as the dark returns_

_This world's unforgiving_

_Even brilliant lights will cease to burn_

All four instruments cut as the kids sing in unison. 

_Legends scatter_

_Day and night will sever_

_Hope and peace are lost forever_

Adam quickly goes into his solo. It’s a messy, wild thing that he randomly came up with one day while they were in the middle of a break. They’d all been so impressed that they were more than willing to let him have a few measures to do his thing, and the crowd is eating it up. The way his fingers move and how he plays into the audience reaction, Blake thinks that he is born for this. 

Just as his solo ends, Sun comes back in to bring them home, and Blake and Ilia sing again. 

_This will be the day we've waited for_

_This will be the day we open up the door_

_I don't wanna hear your absolution_

_Hope you're ready for a revolution_

_Welcome to a world of new solutions_

_Welcome to a world of bloody evolution_

_In time, your heart will open minds_

_A story will be told_

_And victory is in a simple soul!_

At the last ‘soul,’ the crowd’s cheering and applause is so powerful that Blake feels like she needs a new set of ears. She feels Ilia hug her tightly, and then Sun tackles them both like the chaotic goof that he is. And then she feels Adam hover over them and all and ruffle their hair, the four of them laughing as the curtain closes one last time. 

* * *

As it turns out, becoming a viral sensation is could be fun. Someone, or rather multiple someones, recorded their performance and put it up on YouTube, and the views were rather high. So high that Sun practically got dollar signs for eyes when he learned it could be potentially monetized. It was a nice feeling, being complimented at school rather than being called a “governor’s girl,” as Blake had become accustomed to over the years. Even so, she felt herself hoping that her 15 minutes of fame would end soon. 

Instead, it became more pretty much the whole week. Teachers, classmates, even the lunch lady at one point had all congratulated her on the performance and asked when they’d perform again. By the following Tuesday, she’d grown tired of hearing that no one knew she could sing like that, something she vocalized to Sun, who was...well.

(“Ah, just enjoy the limelight, BDonna,” Sun had said while posing for pictures with some underclassmen.

“One, never call me that again,” Blake said, “and two, you know they won’t care about you by next Tuesday, right?” 

“Nah, baby. Like Icarus, I’m gonna fly forever.” 

“...You really need to start reading the books we get in lit class.”)

Unlike Sun, Ilia was rather mixed about the response their performance was getting. Weirdly, she found herself able to blend in with everyone else and not get noticed. 

(“I think I’m fine with that,” Ilia admitted, though her tone made it sound like she wished she wasn’t. “I didn’t do it for them, I did it for, uh...” her cheeks went red. “Never mind.”)  
  


Adam was tougher to discern. While he was no doubt brimming with pride over their performance and the praise online comments had given them--he smirked in appreciation when Sun read one praising his guitar solo--in school, he was apparently making an effort to not be around them. 

(When asked by Sun, the blonde had shrugged. “I guess some classmates were making fun of him for playing with a ‘buncha seventh graders.’” He rolled his eyes, “He looked kinda mad after that, so I didn’t ask anything else.”

The following afternoon, one of the kids Sun mentioned was apparently pushed down the stairs with his shoelaces tied together, and no one knew quite how that happened.)

Days later, it’s not terribly surprising to Blake when Tukson has the four of them stay after school. She’s expecting that maybe he’ll ask them to perform somewhere else, but instead, she’s treated to a different sight when the four of them walk into the band room. Tukson is there, but he’s not alone, instead conversing with two dark-skinned men. 

“Uh, Mr. T?” Sun asks, gesturing towards the other two men. “Who are these guys?” 

One of the men, with a completely bald head, introduces himself, his voice calm like a librarian. “My name is Fennec Albain.” 

“And I am Corsac,” the second man introduces, his voice equally as tranquil. Unlike Fennec, he has a small mohawk of hair, though the sides of his head remain bald. “My brother and I both came upon your video on YouTube, and we just had to meet you.” 

Adam crosses his arms, trying to look standoffish. “Is that so.” 

“Quite,” Fennec adds. “Have you ever heard of Albain Records?”

Of course the kids had heard of them. They were the company that put bands like the Achieve Men, Always Open, and the Freelancers on the map. Sun and Ilia’s eyes lit up in recognition, while Blake’s gulp of nervousness could be heard among the silence. 

Adam, however, remains aloof. “I may have heard of you once or twice.” 

The Albains look at one another. Turning back to the kids and with a smile on his lips, Corsac says, “We have a proposition for you.”

* * *

**The recent past.**

_Coming out of her memories, Blake’s eyes go to Sun and Ilia. They both look at her expecting her to speak, but instead she gets up and walks into the kitchen. With each step, the memories become more pronounced as she’s forced to remember._

_So many memories come flooding into her mind, and at first she wonders why that is. Losing Ilia was painful, but she’s seen a therapist, she’s done better. Why now? And then she looks at the calendar on her phone and remembers._

_This is the anniversary of the day Adam died._

**Author's Note:**

> So that was a Lot, eh?
> 
> To make something perfectly clear: no, I do not plan on making Adam a good guy. I think here he’s always been self serving and sorta slimy, but I don’t believe you can realistically have Blake be interested in and fall for him if he doesn’t have a facade that paints him as charming. They’re all preteens, they don’t fully know better. This will be more prevalent in later chapters.
> 
> Next: yeah, I’m gonna have the WF sing songs from RWBY because honestly it’s fun and this way, I get to make this a little bit of a musical. Can’t have enough of those.


End file.
